The death of a Golden Core cultivator backed by a sect was far from a simple dispute between cultivators.
The Huayang Sect was enraged, and cities ten thousand li away could hardly escape the repercussions.
But ten thousand li away in the Qingchuan Mountains, Mu Yun was racing along a mountain path, moving further away.
He did not yet know that he had stepped into an even deeper storm.
Several hours later, Mu Yun gradually calmed down. He no longer dwelled on the shock of killing a Golden Core cultivator. Instead, he began to reflect on the events of the past few days—everything he had seen as a "spectator."
"His reasoning… is not without merit."
The "he" here referred to the Earth-origin consciousness that shared his body.
Mu Yun murmured softly, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
"It seems that my inability to use Earth's technology weapons, and his inability to cultivate the 'Heavenly Eye' technique, are not coincidental… but inevitable."
Mu Yun's gaze sharpened as his thoughts flowed: "According to his inference, the two consciousnesses—or perhaps two souls—are each independent and have been embedded with different law imprints. This may be why he cannot control mental power, and I cannot access the technology weapon systems."
At this thought, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing an amused smile.
"A scientist from Earth… though I don't know why he can coexist with me in this body, one thing is certain—he is just as intelligent as I am."
After "Little Mu Yun" came online, his demeanor shifted noticeably, losing some of its worldly gravity and gaining a touch of unrestrained ease.
Half a day later, Mu Yun had arrived at the familiar foot of the mountain.
…
The next day, the sky was just beginning to brighten, the morning mist not yet dispersed.
A rich aroma filled the house, the steam from the food wafting through the air. Old Man Zhu had risen early, a rare occurrence, and prepared a table full of delicious dishes. The enticing fragrance carried a long-lost warmth.
Having returned home the previous day, the sense of safety and comfort had allowed Mu Yun to sleep soundly through the night. He was slowly awakened in the morning by this rich aroma.
Still groggy, he furrowed his brow slightly, sniffed the air, and felt a hint of illusion—why was the house so different today?
He rose, washed up, and changed his clothes. Only after everything was ready did Mu Yun walk to the dining table.
"Come, Yun'er."
Old Man Zhu spoke calmly, pointing to a wooden stool, signaling Mu Yun to sit.
Mu Yun glanced at him, noticing nothing unusual. He picked up some food with his chopsticks, ate a few bites, then frowned, looking at Old Man Zhu with a hint of surprise.
"Old Master? Is there some great celebration today?"
Since childhood, he and Old Man Zhu had depended on each other. Their daily meals had always been simple fare. More often than not, Old Man Zhu would force him to swallow medicinal herbs and refine pills. A feast like this was almost unheard of. Naturally, this display left him bewildered.
Old Man Zhu smiled gently, tucking a strand of white hair behind his ear, a warmth in his eyes.
"Come, Yun'er, let's eat and talk."
Mu Yun did not say much during the meal, nor did he mention his fight with the Golden Core cultivator.
He knew he could not explain this clearly to Old Man Zhu, and he feared that if enemies came seeking revenge later, it would bring even greater trouble.
Only after the meal did he slowly recount his journey to Qingchuan City.
The items laid out on the table—Black Obsidian Iron, Solid Copper, Qu Stone, as well as the storage pouch, the wine gourd, and other artifacts—were all obtained on this trip. They were more than enough to prove that his words were true.
Old Man Zhu was silent. He slowly put down his chopsticks, his gaze resting on Mu Yun, his expression gradually growing serious.
After a moment, he sighed softly and finally spoke…
"Yun'er, since you have chosen this path, your grandfather will certainly support you. However…"
At this point, Old Man Zhu's voice stopped abruptly, as if some hidden corner of his heart had been touched, giving rise to a moment of hesitation. His gaze flickered slightly, as if he were struggling with something inside.
After a moment, Old Man Zhu looked up, his deep eyes fixed on Mu Yun, a hint of hidden sorrow in them.
"The path of cultivation is cruel and merciless. One misstep can lead to eternal damnation. No matter what achievements you may attain in the future… your grandfather only hopes that you will survive in this world."
With these words, the room fell into a brief silence.
Mu Yun was startled. He had not expected the always stern Old Man Zhu to speak such words at this moment. His expression became solemn as he looked at Old Man Zhu and said slowly, "Grandfather, rest assured. No matter what happens, I will not easily give up my life."
A faint, forced smile appeared on Old Man Zhu's lips, but there was an ineffable heaviness in it. He sighed softly, as if deflated, and slowly leaned back in his chair, remaining silent for a long time.
His brow was slightly furrowed, his mind heavy with worry.
"The strangeness in Qingchuan City is beyond our control…" Old Man Zhu's gaze dropped, his thoughts racing. "But this place… may no longer be safe to stay… Has the time come when we must go there?"
At that moment, he seemed to be making some momentous decision.
But—could it really be done?
"Before going there, at least finish what is at hand." His gaze settled on the Black Obsidian Iron, Solid Copper, Qu Stone, and other items, as if he had made a significant decision.
"Yun'er, since you have advanced to the Qi Refining stage, there is one more extremely important matter today."
Old Man Zhu smiled, a deep meaning in his eyes. With a flip of his hand, a yellowed ancient book materialized in his palm. Its pages trembled slightly, faint spiritual energy flowing through it, clearly no ordinary object.
Mu Yun looked closely and saw three bold characters on the cover, written with a flourish, each stroke sharp as a blade, exuding a keen, aggressive aura—
Seven Forms of the Blade!
At that moment, Mu Yun's heart shook, and then his face lit up with joy, as if he had found a precious treasure.
This was a true offensive technique! He had longed for it for a long time, but because his cultivation level had not been sufficient, Old Man Zhu had delayed teaching it. Today, his wish was finally fulfilled!
Old Man Zhu sighed softly and spoke slowly: "This Seven Forms of the Blade was copied by my own hand in years past. The original has been lost."
With that, he turned and walked out to the open space in front of the house. The morning sunlight fell upon him, casting a more solemn shadow.
"Yun'er, take a look at it yourself first."
Mu Yun took a deep breath and solemnly opened the book.
Seven Forms of the Blade — Created by: Jin Qiu.
Those short line came into view.
Mu Yun could not help but pause, exclaiming in surprise: "This Seven Forms of the Blade… was it created by a woman?"
"Heh, indeed it was."
Old Man Zhu smiled, a trace of reminiscence in his eyes, then his expression dimmed slightly, his voice carrying an undeniable note of emotion: "A truly remarkable woman."
Mu Yun did not press for details. He could sense that this was a story Old Man Zhu was unwilling to tell.
"Mu Yun," Old Man Zhu said slowly, "this technique was not easily obtained. You must practice it diligently and not bring shame to the reputation of that predecessor."